


Face it Alone

by autumnsolstice9



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:23:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnsolstice9/pseuds/autumnsolstice9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clarke's father died in a car crash, she blamed herself.</p><p>Abby blamed her too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Face it Alone

**Author's Note:**

> CHILD ABUSE IS A MAJOR PART OF THIS STORY  
> hospitals are referenced, as well as alcohol and car crashes.

Clarke was 16 when her father died.

She remembers it being a sunny day in mid-July, perfect for surfing at the beach. The waves were going to be coming in at 2-3 feet, which was a good height for a beginner like herself.

Jake Griffin knew this, so he naturally offered to take her to the beach. They had boarded his red pick-up truck and started to head down to the ocean, talking animatedly along the way.

They didn’t see the other truck that missed the red light.

Clarke didn’t remember much after that, only that it was loud and her side felt like it was on fire, and then complete silence. When she had looked up, her dad was hanging in his seat, a deep red flowing quickly out his skull.

She had screamed her lungs out for help, but Jake shushed her. He had looked in her eyes and whispered how much he loved her before closing his eyes for the last time.

That was how the paramedics found her: screaming for her father and in hysterics.

Clarke would never forget that day.

Her mother, Abby, wouldn’t either.

As Clarke lay in her room, cradling her side, she knew her mother would never forgive or forget her father’s death.

To Abby, Clarke was to blame. 

Silently, somewhere back in her mind, Clarke agreed.

Her mother had become violent in the past month, after Clarke’s seventeenth birthday (which happened to be nearly a month after her father’s death), when Clarke announced she didn’t want to go to medical school.

She should’ve known better then to spring that on her mother, who was still coping with her father’s death, but it was a now-or-never deal, and Clarke had taken charge.

She regretted it after the sixth night of grabbing ice packs from the freezer and sneaking up to her room to avoid sparking another round of hits from her rage-filled mother.

If someone knew about Clarke’s situation, they probably would have thought that Abby Griffin was a monster. She wasn’t. Clarke didn’t see her that way--- she saw someone who was hurting. Her mother was the same as she was before her father died, as long as she wasn’t angry. They still ate food together and talked about the news, her mother was still human.

They just couldn’t mention college or her father. That was when Abby turned into a monster.

Really, Clarke mused, it was her own fault her father was dead. Abby had every right to be angry.

There were three rules Clarke knew in order to survive:  
Don’t talk about med school.  
Don’t talk about Jake Griffin.  
Don’t let Abby near alcohol.

It was survival; Clarke could handle Abby’s hits but she couldn’t handle the emotional turmoil it plunged her into. She knew if she really wanted, she could hit Abby back and win in a fight, but some part of her felt she deserved this. She was the reason her father was dead, after all.

The alarm rang and Clarke drowsily picked herself up from bed. Quickly dressing and grabbing toast for breakfast, she slung her bag over her shoulder and quietly exited the house, hoping to escape her mother before they could have another talk about the future.

Unlike most teens, Clarke enjoyed school. As she drove in her car towards Ark High, she let herself finally breathe, a sigh she didn’t know she was holding in escaping her lips. Whenever she walked into her house, with all of its marble walls and threats, she felt like the air was escaping her lungs and her body began to cave under the pressure. School let her finally breath; the coursework she had was hard but it was a different type of pressure, it was one she could control and handle, like it was a garden and she simply had to dig out the roots. At home, it was like waiting for a volcano to burst. She could run from the lava, but she would be burned no matter what.

So she threw herself into school work throughout the year. She was on her way to becoming valedictorian and needed to keep her GPA up while still studying for her AP courses. She simultaneously hated it because it was another burden to carry, one her mother forced on her, but she appreciated how it took her away from reality for a moment. Clarke enjoyed her classes, she loved learning, but she wished she could have breaks or free time like everyone else in her school.

Exiting her car, Clarke heard the familiar rumble of Bellamy Blake’s truck. He hated her for her money, for her easy life, and Clarke wanted to shout at him that her life was miserable, she was drowning under the weight of expectations and his snide comments of princess was just another thing to live up to. She was the princess of the school, and she had to keep that image up otherwise people would see her cracks and destroy her. His sister, Octavia, was one of Clarke’s friends. The girl was always a bundle of energy, strong and full of fury in a way that made her appear unapproachable but admired from afar.

Few knew the soft side of Octavia, and when they finally saw it Octavia never let them go.

O and Raven, Clarke’s other friend, were the only two who really knew about the car accident that killed her father. It was a large town that they lived in, and people had heard about the accident that resulted in one dead and another rushed to the hospital, but everything was kept under wraps. Abby kept everything quiet--- it was a quiet funeral with Marcus Kane, a history teacher from the school, being the only person outside of their two-person family who was invited.

The Griffin family couldn’t erase the perfect family image. Clarke assumed people thought Jake was just busy with work as usual. No one in their neighborhood associated with the Griffin’s besides small talk, and the rest of the town kept to themselves and their neighbors. Essentially, Clarke was alone in her corner of Ark City.

O and Raven had promised not to tell anyone of Jake’s demise. Clarke wouldn’t be able to handle the pitying looks. They were already halfway through the school year, and none knew of Jake’s death besides them. It was a secret kept by the three friends and one no one needed to release.

Clarke had more secrets, some that even her two best friends couldn’t know.

The winter air was cut through Clarke’s skin, but O quickly ran across the parking lot and launched herself at Clarke, effectively tackling her. A large grin spread across Octavia’s face, “Clarke-y! Do you know what snow means?” 

Before Clarke could answer, Octavia had thrown a pile of snow onto Clarke.

As Clarke started to retaliate, Bellamy’s voice cut through the air. “Octavia, get off the ground. We’re going to be late if you keep playing in the snow.” He sounded annoyed, but the small smile playing on his face told a different story. He loved his sister, the nine months that spread them apart apparently giving him enough leeway to be the ‘super old super protective’ brother.

After O got up and pulled Clarke up with her, Bellamy finally took the time to acknowledge her. Snorting her name under his breath, Clarke felt familiarity creep into her. Bellamy always hated Clarke, for reasons unknown to her, but it was part of their routine. Bellamy would throw an insult back and Clarke would have a sarcastic comeback already dancing on her lips. The routine between them kept Clarke grounded because no matter what, she could expect Bellamy to be ready to pick a fight with her.

O and Clarke walked into school together, arms hooked together and Bellamy not far behind. If this Friday was like all the other Friday’s in their senior year, Clarke would be having a good day.

***  
This Friday was not like all the others. Clarke found herself in a crowd of people at Jasper’s house where he was having another infamous party. Monty was off to the side, flirting with Miller, and Raven was off in a corner making out with Wick. Beer was spilled on Clarke’s leggings by John Murphy and Octavia had ditched her five minutes ago to flirt with Lincoln. Bellamy had called her ‘princess’ in a condescending tone at least ten times already, and then proceeded to point out every single one of her flaws. The ones about her character she could deal with and push into the back of her mind for further examination, but then he began to mention her physical flaws and something inside her snapped.

He was currently saying something about how she walked with a slight limp, and how it was probably her way of trying to make her flat ass look big because no guy was interested in her, and Clarke was suddenly filled with rage. She got that limp when she was in the car accident with her father. She had a limp because she was in a car that had rolled over three times, she got that limp because she tried to get out to save _her father_.

So Clarke snapped. She could feel her face turn to ice and her eyes become glass shards. In a low and threatening tone, she began to release her rage on to Bellamy. “You know nothing about me, Bellamy, so why don’t you shut up?”

He had taken a step back, shock on his face because this wasn’t how they played their game of cat and dog, but then he simply smirked at her. “What,” and god, she hates that stupid tone of voice, the one where he acts like he just won, “does the princess hate that? That she’s got such a stick up her ass that she can’t get a guy to notice her?”

“What I hate,” her voice rising like the swell of a tide, “is you. You think you know everything about me, don’t you? You know nothing, absolutely nothing. Do you honestly think I care if some guy wants to fuck me? Huh, is that it Blake?” His eyes had turned round to saucers, shock overtaking his features, as he heard Clarke finally lose part of her self-control. “Well, I have news for you, Bellamy. Your opinion doesn’t mean shit to me. You think I care about that? Honestly? If you think I’m that shallow, that I do _everything_ for some dumb guy, then you don’t know me.”

Bellamy and Clarke had argued before, but this was a different caliber. Clarke could feel the rage in her bones, and the fight she had in her deflated when she heard Bellamy open his mouth again. “You’re just a rich girl with daddy’s credit card.”

Her sharp intake of breath was audible and her legs began to push through the crowd and head outside where snow whipped around her face. She took a deep breath and let the wind cut through her skin. Clenching her fist together and willing her tears away, she dug her nails into the palm of her hand. She needed to breathe.

The cold sliced her open like she was paper but Clarke took it willingly. She needed to be reminded that things were real, this was her life, not just some convoluted nightmare. She needed to think.

That was how Raven found her ten minutes later, standing outside with chapped lips, snow covering her feet and arms, and her pale skin being overtaken by a slight blue tinge. “Clarke, you need to get inside. Forget Bellamy. He doesn’t know shit.”

Raven was always the voice of reason for Clarke. Octavia would want to do crazy things and she made elaborate plans, but Raven always called things as she saw them. Clarke was a leader, but she was always stuck in the emotional turmoil of whether or not she should or shouldn’t do something. 

If Clarke didn’t have Raven, she would have gone crazy by now. And Raven was right, Bellamy didn’t know anything. He was using a line that he had used a million times before, that she was just a rich girl living off of her parent’s money, but he didn’t know what had happened to her father. It wasn’t his fault. The part of herself she felt breaking was quickly sealed with iron so it would never be weak again. She wouldn’t show her pain, she would carry everything so no one would see her struggle. She didn’t need a hero, she needed herself. She could be her own savior.

Her mask of perfection had slipped back on as she took Raven’s arm and walked back into Jasper’s house with a smile plastered onto her face.

“Raven, go have fun, I’m fine.” Clarke told her, and Raven didn’t even question it. She left to go back to Wick and some part of Clarke was proud that she could sell her happiness so well.

Going over to find Jasper and take one of his brownies (seriously who cared if they had pot in them? She needed something like that right now), Clarke felt herself tense up. She looked out of the corner of her eye and saw Cage Wallace (and why was he always invited to these things? Cage was the biggest asshole in their school) talking to Bellamy, and Clarke was just close enough to hear what he was saying.

She was about to pass them by when she heard him mention Aurora, Bellamy and Octavia’s mother. Aurora, who worked constantly to provide for her children, and had to do terrible things to keep her family afloat. Aurora was like the mother Clarke always wanted; she would read her children stories and make cookies for them when they weren’t feeling well. When Clarke went through the whole Finn disaster with Raven, finding out that she was the second woman to Raven, who had just transferred schools, Aurora was the one who held her and the only one to see her cry over Finn Collins. Aurora was the only person in Clarke’s life to see her fall apart and piece herself back together, besides her father, and she was the one who Clarke went to when the cup Abby threw at her after a night of drinking dug into her side and marred her skin. She hadn’t asked questions, just offered her a place to stay for the night and a sewing kit, and in that moment Clarke was sure Aurora had pieced together every part of her life before everyone else Clarke knew. She could remember the kiss Aurora pressed onto her forehead while she stared at her hands, covered in her own blood, and wondered what she had done so wrong in the world that this is what she got in return.

Aurora Blake always let Clarke sleep over, no matter what the Blake family had in the morning. For that, Clarke was eternally in Aurora’s debt.

Cage was throwing more insults towards Bellamy. “Your mom is such a slut, Blake, you know that? How many guys does she have to sleep with to provide for your sorry ass? And with all the shit you pull on Griffin and all the girls you sleep with, she’d hate you if you really knew.”

Bellamy’s face was blank as a slate but Clarke saw his shoulders tense and his jaw tick, the way his eyes would dart around, and she saw that Bellamy Blake was _ashamed_. So when he left to go outside to the cold that Clarke just escaped, she felt herself start to follow. She doesn’t think anyone should have to deal with things like that alone, even Bellamy.

She started to head outside, but not before turning around and punching Cage in the jaw.

(She should’ve aimed for his nose. Cage loved his nose.)

Clarke wandered back outside to find Bellamy leaning against a tree, tears running down his face. He looked broken, Clarke thought. She sat down next to him and gave him a small smile. His head turned towards hers and he quickly looked away again. “Hey, Bell,” her quiet voice began, a soothing tone she uses on children escaping her. “Bellamy, don’t listen to Cage. He’s an ass, okay?”

Bellamy turned towards Clarke, his eyes wide and hanging on every word. “Bellamy, you’re a good person. Yeah, you can be an ass sometimes, but everyone is like that. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“Clarke, he’s right. My mom wouldn’t be proud of me if she knew all the shit I did. She raised me to be better than this.” He sounded so defeated and broken, and Clarke couldn’t hate him. She grabbed his arm and started to make circles with her thumb.

“Hey, hey, listen. You’ve done some things you’re not proud of? Who cares? We all have. You’ve done a lot of good. Remember when I found out Raven and Finn were dating? You got me my favorite ice cream from the store and let me watch chick flicks with Octavia all night even though you hate them. You watch out for O, and I know you watch out for Raven too. So go ahead, fuck up sometimes. You’re human, it’s allowed. I know for a fact your mother is proud of you. And if you don’t want to carry all the weight of protecting people, fine, that’s okay. I’ll carry it with you. If you want to call it quits, that’s okay. But Bellamy, don’t ever think you’re a bad person. You’re not alone. I’m with you. O’s with you. We’re all with you. You aren’t some fuck-up.”

Bellamy nodded and gulped deeply before resting his head on Clarke’s shoulder. She began to stroke her hand through his brown curls and rub on his back while humming a song she knew from long ago. 

They stayed like that for a while until Clarke finally got up and offered him her hand. “Come on, let’s go home.”

The drive back to the Blake household was silent. It didn’t smother them and was instead comfortable. The radio quietly played some Passion Pit song and the snow continued to peacefully fall. 

Clarke watched Bellamy get out of her car and begin to head inside when she decided to follow. She couldn’t go home to Abby smelling like the beer Murphy had spilled on her. Aurora’s car was in their driveway and the porch light was on. When Bellamy began to close the door only to see her heading inside as well, his eyebrows lifted in surprise but he didn’t stop her from coming in.

Clarke gave him a small smile in thanks.

Aurora was sitting on the couch, watching television when they made their appearance known. She had a wide smile for Bellamy and her eyes lit up; when her eyes slid to Clarke the expression remained but curiosity joined the joy in her eyes.

Bellamy headed upstairs to his room and Clarke sat down next to Aurora.

“Honey, are you okay? Do you need bandages?” The worry in Aurora’s voice made Clarke smile, albeit watery. If only her own mother cared for her like that, or the way she did before her father died. 

“No, I’m fine, thanks Aurora. I was just driving Bellamy home from Jasper’s. Octavia’s there but Raven can drive her home. Can I stay here for the night? It’s just that, um, John Murphy spilled beer on my pants, and I, uh, can’t go home smelling like alcohol.” She cast her gaze away from Aurora’s, her cheeks filling with heat and her leg bouncing up and down as a nervous tick.

Aurora tilted Clarke’s chin up and gave her a warm smile. “Of course, dear. You can stay as long as you need. If you get hurt again, just let me know. I’ll come brandishing bandages and kitchen knives for you, Clarke-y dear.”

Neither of them saw Bellamy watching from the top of the stairs, or the furrow in his brow and small frown he had. What Bellamy saw was Clarke hug his mother and her eyes squinted shut as she whispered thanks into Aurora’s hair.

He didn’t know the princess, but he would protect her. No one should have to look to someone else’s parent for safety.

***

From then on, Bellamy and Clarke are friends. Sure, they argued, but who didn’t? Now their arguments were less threatening and explosive. Everyone thinks they’re dating, and Clarke doesn’t see a problem with the rumors.

He takes her out for ice cream and they go for drives at night. They study together and spend so much time together she sees him more than Octavia and Raven. Anyone who picked on her was threatened by Bellamy and anyone who talked about the Blake family had to face Clarke. When Clarke would go over and hang out with Bellamy by watching a movie, her head always ended up in his lap and he would run his hand through her hair. She felt safe with him, and Clarke hadn’t felt safe with anyone for a long time.

When Clarke finally told Bellamy about the death of her father, with tears in her eyes and running down her face to match, he had taken her into his arms and told her she didn’t have to carry the weight alone. And, almost as if he could read her thoughts, he told her it wasn’t her fault. Hearing someone say that for the first time helped Clarke release some of the guilt she felt.

They helped share each other's burdens. He didn’t know about the abuse Clarke faced, but she was grateful for him anyway. She could feel herself fall in love with him the closer they got, and she knew that eventually she would be in love with him.

Really, she doesn’t see a problem with dating Bellamy Blake.

She would love to have him by her side and share kisses in the dark, but she can’t. She knows she has too many secrets she can’t tell and too many dangers in her house to have him constantly over.

She tests out the waters of her home by having him come over one day.

They’re sitting in her room, watching Game of Thrones and discussing their favorite characters and plotlines, when Abby comes home. Clarke’s head is on Bellamy’s shoulder as they lay on her bed, immersed in Khaleesi and her dragons, but Clarke doesn’t miss the passing look on her mother’s face.

It screams disgust.

Clarke is afraid of what will happens when Bellamy leaves.

They continue to watch the show.

It’s late when Bellamy leaves and by the time Clarke thinks she’s safe, her mother forgot, but she enters her room to find Abby already there. 

“I don’t like that boy you’re with. You’re not to see him again.” Her voice is ice and her eyes are icier. Abby smells like the wine they keep in the basement, and Clarke sees a wine glass resting on her dresser. Clarke is ready to put up a fight; her mother can hit her all she wants but she can’t take away her friendship with Bellamy. That’s something that is non-negotiable and Clarke will not give it up.

So she argues. “He’s my friend, mom. It’s just Octavia’s brother.”

She can watch the volcano explode in the way her mother’s lips move and her words and lava singing Clarke. Her eyes are fire and Clarke’s ears are filled with the screams of all those who have been burned.

“Friends, Clarke? That didn’t look like friends! Octavia isn’t a good influence anyway! You want to be some Blake slut? Just like Octavia and Aurora? You want to be that Blake boy’s whore? Is that it?” Abby has thrown her shoulders back and her face is red with rage. She steps closer with each sentence until she’s hitting Clarke in time with when she calls her a slut.

“A slut?” Hit. “Slut!” Hit. “Slut!” Hit. It continues until Abby’s ring has dug deep enough into Clarke’s gut that her shirt is beginning to be stained red.

Clarke’s arms and legs are in pain and her gut in filled with a fire that is not meant to fuel but to instead hurt. 

Her mother stops hitting her and begins to make her way out of the room.

Clarke refuses to lose this, she will not lose the Blake family. So she refuses to give up her fight. Abby is beginning to walk down the hall, wine glass in hand, when Clarke speaks up. “I’m not going to stop being friends with them.”

The wine glass Abby throws leaves shards in Clarke’s forearm.

Abby looks at Clarke and glares. “I didn’t want to have to do that, Clarke, but rules are rules. You will not be seen with that Blake boy again.”

Abby leaves and Clarke goes to the bathroom to clean the glass out of her skin and throw up.

When Clarke is left with bile in her mouth, she makes her way downstairs and towards her car. The bandage she has wrapped around her abdomen is already soaked through, but she needs to keep pressure on her wound.

She ends up at the Blake house and knocks on the door. Bellamy answers, in his pajamas, and Clarke is struck by how late it is. “Hey, is your mom here?” The shaky smile she gives lasts a second before it is replaced by something cheerier.

Bellamy already saw her weakness.

“No, she’s at work. Clarke, are you okay?” The question made her laugh. Was she okay? She didn’t know what she was anymore. But she couldn’t tell Bellamy what was really going on.

“Yeah! Of course. I just had to ask her a question. Can I wait here for her? I’m not feeling well enough to drive.”

All of it was true in circumstance. Clarke had to ask her a question; she need to know whether or not she needed stitches for the cut from her mother’s ring. Aurora worked as a nurse and would be able to help. And she definitely wasn’t feeling well enough to drive, black spots danced in her eyes and she could feel the sweat bead on her face. When Bellamy nodded, she moved towards the couch and began to sway.

Bellamy grabbed her and made her steady, his hand going over the gash in her abdomen. Clarke’s vision was fuzzy now and she was just able to lay herself down on the couch. Bellamy pulled his hand away and Clarke watched in detached fascination as he stared at his hand, which was now stained red, and confusion swept over his face only to be replaced by complete shock and horror. His hands grabbed at her shirt and he lifted it over her head before making a retching noise in the back of his throat. “Octavia! You need to get down here now!” His voice wavered and the fear in it made Clarke giggle. Bellamy Blake, her knight in shining armor. It was a ridiculous notion.

Bellamy was watching her face now, fear and concern etched onto his features. Clarke had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were before now. They reminded her of happiness and a burning log. They were bright and gorgeous and the safest thing Clarke had ever known. Reaching up with her hand, she patted his cheek and whispered, “You’re my favorite person, Bellamy Blake” before falling back onto the couch and closing her eyes.

She heard Octavia scream when she came downstairs and Bellamy shouting her name. She felt him shake her leg and tried to open her eyes again. The last thing she remembered seeing was Bellamy’s face in front of hers as Octavia drove in their beat-up truck. He was saying something, but Clarke couldn’t understand him. She appreciated the effort anyway and sent him a smile before she let her drowsiness take over.

***  
Clarke woke up in a hospital bed with Bellamy’s hand in hers and white walls surrounding her. She looked blearily at the wires attached to her before pushing her hand through Bellamy’s hair. Bellamy’s head shot up and he got a wide smile at his face.

He grabbed her face and kissed her.

Right when Clarke began to respond, after she got over the shock, he pulled away. “Sorry, princess, I just really needed to do that. I was really worried about you for a while.”

Clarke nodded dumbly. “Um, yeah, well, I’m okay with that. Like, if you want to do it again, I’m okay with that.”

Bellamy beamed at her.

It didn’t last long. Their hands were still joined together when Bellamy spoke up again. “Are you going to explain what happened?”

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut. Biting her lip, she finally nodded.

Opening her eyes and looking away from Bellamy, she began her story.

It lasted hours, and by the end Bellamy was holding her as she sobbed.

“I just thought, I was to blame. And she’s still my mom, yanno? She’s hurting. I just, I don’t know what I really thought. I felt like it was my fault and that if this helped her, then it was okay, yanno?” She buried her face in his shirt as he made comforting noises.

They were going to take her mother away and then everyone would know the truth about Clarke Griffin. She would live with the Blakes now, with Octavia in her room, and try to ignore the whispers that would undoubtedly be spread around the halls about her.

Bellamy squeezed her hand and looked at her with such love in his eyes Clarke thought she would start crying again. He kissed her forehead, and told her with such surety “We’ll face people together. I’m not leaving your side, princess.”

Clarke had been holding herself up alone for so long, and she decided now was as good a time as any to lean on someone.

With Bellamy Blake at her side, Clarke would be able to face anything.

**Author's Note:**

> I would have loved to developed this further but finals are here. I also wish I put more Raven and Octavia in. This is unbeta'd.


End file.
